


the one rule we had

by lavenderixcc



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blue Balls, Bottom Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), DNF, Dom/sub, Light Sadism, M/M, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Predator/Prey, Sadism, Shameless Smut, Smut, Top GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), dreamnotfound, hey lol, mlm, no beta we die like l'manberg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderixcc/pseuds/lavenderixcc
Summary: if you don't like top george, just read the first chapter:)otherwise, be patient, top george is endgame.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 127





	the one rule we had

The blue light of the monitor fills the room with a soft glow, George’s cheeks stretched with a wide smile left over from tonight’s stream.

The light voice of Karl Jacobs emanates from George’s wireless headphones: “George! Thank you for the raid bomb! I appreciate you more than you know! Okay, guys…” he begins, standing up on his chair, ready to bounce. George closes twitch.tv/karljacobs and takes a deep breath, rubbing his eyes. _That was such a good stream, we popped off._

Warmth blooms suddenly on the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. “George…” murmurs Dream, hot breath lingering at the nape of his neck. He sends his thin fingers around the brunette’s soft throat, letting them rest patiently at the base of his neck. George freezes, throat tensing in anticipation.

“Drea-“ he gasps, acutely aware of his new absence of breath as the grip tightens.

“You know what you did, don’t you?” Dream hissed, “What did I say about teasing me on stream?” His digits tightened around the gentle throat. “Gasp for me.” George struggles against Dream’s grasp, clutching at the tensed fingers with his own delicate ones. The grip loosens ever so slightly as Dream waits for his response.

George drinks in new air, the blood in his head directing itself downward, rushing as if it were a race. His mouth turns up at the corner as he tries to speak, only a puff of air escaping into the chilly air of his room.

“Use your words, love,” Dream coaxed, resting his chin on the small shoulder of his sub.

George takes a deep breath, his pink bottom lip already beginning to quiver. “What are you going to do about it?” He challenges. He grins wildly, bracing himself for Dream’s wrath. Dream’s eyes flash with a mixture of emotions unidentifiable to George. In one fluid motion, Dream tilts his head down and bites George’s collarbone sharply, tightening his grip once more. Encouraged by his small cry, Dream runs the fingers of his opposite hand up the back of George’s neck and into his dark brown hair, finding a thick lock and grasping it harshly. He pulls his head back sharply to rest on the back of the chair, tilting his chin toward the ceiling, exposing the supple skin of his throat. George whimpers in pain, clutching the arms of his gaming chair. Dream releases both holds on George and spins the chair around to face him. George’s eyes are watering and widened, already persuaded into submission.

At this sight, Dream feels lightheaded, the blood pounding from his heart and down to his dick. “You’re such a pretty boy,” he murmurs. George’s innocent eyes flicker mischievously for a moment, fully to Dream’s quick perception. Towering, now, over the small, seated figure, Dream places a steady foot between George’s legs, hovering ever so slightly above the stiff outline between his legs.

All evidence of playfulness behind George’s deep brown eyes is replaced by overwhelming fright and anxiety. “Wait, Dream, I’ll be good, please,” he begs, realizing he’s bitten off more than he can chew. Without warning, Dream begins to press, ever so slightly. George cries out loudly, shouting “DREAM, PLEASE I-“ Dream chuckles softly, cutting George off with a hard kiss, biting his bottom lip roughly. He leads the kiss eagerly, teasing the Brit with the tip of his tongue. George struggles to reciprocate, and Dream allows him, feeling the gentle nibbles on his own bottom lip and the light grazing of George’s tongue across his top lip.

Impatient and hard, Dream pulls back suddenly, growling, “Oh, come on now, you little slut.” He grabs George faux-roughly by the shoulders and pulls him up, using the momentum to shove him onto the bed behind them. George fights back in mock-defiance, nonetheless allowing himself to be tossed onto the mattress. He scrambles to turn around and face his predator, staring directly into his peridot green eyes.

Dream tears off his own shirt and mutters, “take it off.”

George looks at Dream with pleading eyes and whispers politely, “Dream I can’t, can you help me please?” Dream smiles, no, snarls, crawling onto the bed. His face reaches George’s waist and he allows his hands to wander, snaking up George’s small thighs until they reach his waistband. _He tied it in a little bow; he’s so cute._ He leans toward the knot and wraps his lips around it, untying it gently with his teeth. He pulls the tie through, sparing a nip at George’s hipbone, causing him to inhale sharply in surprise. Dream is fueled by the promise of what’s to come, and impatiently grabs fistfuls of George’s pants and yanks them down to his knees, taking his boxers with them.

George’s dick stands front and center, directly in front of Dream’s face. Dream looks up at George, grinning ravenously. He ignores it, placing his tongue directly above it and working slowly up. George moans softly, rushing to take off his black smile hoodie.

Dream grabs George’s hips hard, pulling himself up. He lowers himself directly over George’s face, only a few inches away. “Do you need me to open you up, baby?” He murmurs, one hand holding himself up right next to George’s face and the other stroking his delicate cheek gently, a stark contrast to his prior demeanor. He can feel George’s heart racing under his own.

George swallows hard, purring, “yes, Daddy.” Dream reaches past George’s head to the night table, wrapping his long fingers around the near-empty bottle of lube. Moving his lips in small butterfly kisses down George’s neck, Dream begins to work his fingers one by one, feeling the warm pressure around his fingers. George groans quietly, almost disappointingly so. Dream feels hot as he feels George’s neediness fading ever so slightly. Quicker now, he moves his fingers in and out, staring intently at the red-faced brunette.

George yells out, “DREAM, OW” as he recoils, eyes wet and hurting. Dream stops, repressing the spark of lust he feels at the sight of the almost-tears. “You’re okay, darling.” He leans down again to leave more butterfly kisses on George’s thighs. As every second passes he feels the impatience migrate slowly from his head to his dick. Already hard, he’s nearly out of breath from the intense need to move faster.

George looks down at the damp blonde hair of the Florida boy below him and grins inwardly, feeling rewarded for his brattiness. He feels the slender fingers inside him spread ever so slightly and he moans encouragingly, all too ready. “Just fuck me already,” he breathes, exasperated.

The peridot eyes flick up to meet his soft brown ones and he feels the regret dripping instantly down his spine. _Too much._ Within the eye contact, George can feel the intense heat spreading from behind Dream’s eyes into his own, burning his face.

Dream easily slips off his belt and hisses, “if that’s what we’re doing then…” He grabs George by the jaw and digs his fingertips in, pulling him up to face him, just inches away. “You’re just gonna keep being pretty while I’m inside you, okay?”

He grabs his neck and shoves him harshly back down, pinning him to the bed with a hand over his mouth. “You don’t make the demands. You do what I say, you hear me? You’re such a brat.” At the last word his lips curl into a vicious grin. George whimpers, taken by surprise at the sudden shift in tone. Chills walk like fingers up his spine when he feels Dream inside him, the rhythmic in-and-out motion forcing him to bite his lip.

“One more sound out of you and you’re getting fucked so hard you forget your name,” Dream whispers, far too calmly. Embarrassed by the pre-cum already dripping out of his head, Dream moves fast and faster, moving his hands to grip tightly to George’s waist, digging in with the intent to leave a few marks. George breathes heavily, biting into his lip, drawing blood. To say he wasn’t used to this would be a lie; he holds his own without hesitance. Dissatisfied, Dream sinks his nails into George’s side, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. He grips tighter and tighter, surprised by George’s perceived resilience.

Unbeknownst to Dream, George is fighting with every breath to stay silent. He feels a whimper rise into the back of his throat, hiding behind his teeth. He feels himself gaining control over his vocal cords, and he swallows the whimper. Right then, Dream’s head grazes his spot ever so slightly and George lets out a moan deep from within himself. His eyes widen in fear as he stares into the eyes of a man whom is about to absolutely destroy him. Dream’s eyes are wild and filled to the brim with a fire so hot it scalds George once again.

With a new intensity and passion, Dream pumps faster and harder into George, feeling himself, to his own dismay, getting close. He runs a hand up George’s chest around the back of his neck and twisting into his drenched brown hair. He grabs a fistful and lowers his mouth onto George’s neck, biting and sucking with a starved hunger. George screams, unable to keep himself grounded to reality. The combination of sensations is too much for him to comprehend, and all he can do is focus on his breath.

Dream’s eyes widen as he realizes he can’t keep himself for much longer and he pulls back, already marveling through his tunnel vision at the already prominent purple splotch on his pale canvas. “George,” he breathes, “tell me you’re my bitch.”

George, deep beneath the surface of the water, hears the voice clear as day. He struggles to the top, yearning for a single molecule of air. He fights and fights, miles beneath the surface. All he can manage is to silently mouth those words, and barely at that.

“Goddamnit George, come on now,” Dream curses, “Just say it, I know you can.” He’s fighting so hard at this point to hold back; he wants so desperately to fulfill George, more so than any other desire he’s had. He can’t just quit now. He pushes himself farther in with each thrust, knowing full well how close George has to be.

Feeling the physicality of Dream inside him, George knows how close he must be, and he feels something inside himself (not Dream) that he hasn’t felt before. It’s unfamiliar and he can’t stand it; he pushes it aside. George leans into Dream, guiding him subtly right were he needs to be. Right then, Dream’s head finds his spot, and George feels the warmth spreading up inside him. Dream falters above George and leans into him, breathing heavily, still fully inside him. He kisses bruised lips and twists a sweaty hand into damp hair. George wraps his arms around the sweaty man that’s pinning him to the bed and squeezes. His right hand wanders up to the back of Dream’s head and he pets the boy’s hair. He hums softly.

Dream feels the vibrations of George’s chest against his own and pulls him in tighter, suddenly aware of the chill air of the room. He holds tight to George for warmth, and feels the onset of drowsiness coming to him in droning waves.

George stares at the ceiling, following edge of the wall with his eyes. The blood gradually migrates back to his heart and his dick slowly softens, however reluctantly it may be.

Dream lifts his head wearily in alarm, eyes open wide. “Baby, you didn’t cum.” George lowers his eyes to the blonde haired boy lying on his chest and finds a poorly hidden guilt in those peridot green eyes.

“That’s okay, Dream, tomorrow.” George encourages, stroking Dream’s damp hair gently, lowering his head back to his chest.

“George, are you sure? I’m sorry, love.” Dream murmurs, lifting his head back up intently. George nods, leaning his head back onto the bed, returning his stare to the ceiling. “I’ll make it up to you,” Dream promises, pushing himself off of George and shivering. He manages to pull himself up and find his shirt. He lifts it over his head while walking to the bathroom. “Georgeee,” he calls out, “I’m running you a hot shower.”

George hears the shower turn on and lifts his head to stare at the door. _What was that? I might as well shower, I’m gross._ He stands up, feet planted firmly on the ground. He shivers, finally realizing how cold he really is. George rushes to the bathroom, racing the cum dripping down his leg. He passes Dream in the hallways, stopping only to give him a small kiss, wincing from the pressure on his swollen lips. He pushes back the curtain in the bathroom and slides in, caught off guard by the biting heat, and reels from the sudden temperature change. After adjusting to the heat, George reaches for the shampoo, thinking, _This has to be a fluke. I must be tired._

Dream reaches the dresser and pulls out a new pair of boxers, rejoicing slightly in the the cleanliness. He gathers the clothes all over the floor and dumps it in the hamper, depositing his shirt on top. He goes about fixing the room without a reflective thought in his head, daydreaming about other dates he and George could go on and taking his own shower in the the pure delirium of his love for George. Dream pulls out a shirt and soft pants for George and folds them, leaving them on top of the dresser. Moving over to the bed, he adjusts the sheets and crawls in, leaving a spot for George.

George exits into the fog of his bathroom and wraps a towel around himself. He sighs and walks into the bedroom to the sound of cheering from Dream. “There’s my beautiful boy!”  
George smiles and drops the towel, grabbing the clothes. He dresses himself, giggling, while Dream rallies from the bed. George closes the door, flicking off the light, and crawls into bed. In the darkness he feels for Dream, finding his outstretched arm. Using it as a headrest, George wraps his leg around the blonde and hugs him tightly, feeling more comforted than he had all night.

Dream rests his cheek on the top of George’s head and lifts his opposite hand to his cheek, stroking it slowly and softly with his thumb. “Goodnight George, I love you,” he whispers, kissing the top of his head.

“Goodnight, I love you as well,” George whispers back, snuggling in to Dream’s embrace and suppressing any thought beside the pure bliss he feels in this moment.


End file.
